Futuristic Imagination
by Lukeprism
Summary: Future!fic - Lucas Itoi's mundane life is suddenly turned upside down when he stumbles upon a boy he believes to be over three hundred years old. Chapter 1 - The Masked Man? Tentative hiatus.


_**A/N: :'C**_

WARNINGS: Nothing, really. Possible future violence, maybe some language (mostly in my A/Ns OTL).

DISCLAIMER: Yes, I own nothing.  


—**s—t—a—r—t—f—i—c—t—i —o—n—**

_**The year is 220X.**_

_**.**_

_**.**_

_**.  
Tazmily has changed.**_

Lucas Itoi, just like all the other kids in Neo Tazmily, had learned about their ancestors' primitive past. They'd had no space ships, no virtual schools (this the boy rather envied), no robot servants, no supercomputers that one could hold in a baby's palm, no hovercars, no buildings floating in the air, no weather modification machines, no instant transport pods, no knowledge of science or the vast universe surrounding them, no plants and animals that would grow and raise themselves...they hadn't even had cell phones or calculators. The boy felt bad for them, who had to make do with scouring the forest for food and having to deal with constant famine and natural disasters. No running water or electricity? No thank you.

It was almost ironic how someone from such origins, living in such a time, had done one of the greatest things in the history of the Nowhere Islands. Lucas Itoi. That was the name of the man who basically single-handedly brought down the corrupt leader of the Pigmask Army and saved the world from near-certain destruction...before he'd even turned thirteen years old. The legend spoke of the trials he'd gone through; losing half his family, isolating himself from others, discovering his psychokinetic power, embarking on the quest to find and pull the sacred Seven Needles. It was said he had even had to kill his own twin brother in order to pull the last one. Nevertheless, he did it, and most everyone was saved. He'd lived a pretty humble life after that, had a wife and a son, before he died in his early thirties...or so the story went. He disappeared at that age, and no one ever saw him again.

The tale had always fascinated Lucas. And not just because he had been named after the guy, either. Doing something so great, at such a young age, with so many obstacles and with so little experience or help...and then to just leave that legacy behind, to give up that title of 'hero' and disappear. _What kind of man had he been, exactly?_, he'd always wondered.

Though he shared the hero's first and last names, Lucas was fairly sure someone as ordinary and plain as him couldn't possibly be related to someone so great. His family never bragged or talked about it any. However, much of the ancestry going back as far as three hundred or so years ago, to that time, had been lost; there was always that slim chance, he supposed. How _cool_ it would be!

He was torn from his daydreaming and retrospection by blinding light from the windows on either side of him, which had just been un-shaded by his young teacher. Multiple groans sounded from around him, assuring him that he hadn't been the only one dozing off.

"Now then, does anyone have any questions about the lesson?" the lady asked, hands on her hips as she walked back towards the transparent screen projected in front of the blank wall in front of all the students, where she'd written out a bit of their work as well as their homework assignments. She wore a very eccentric silvery one piece jacket-type article of clothing, almost intensifying her already-pale skin. The outfit wasn't really all that eccentric, however; all the kids in the class, Lucas included, wore the exact same thing per school policy.

There was a vague pause after her voice faded away, kids still blinking themselves awake or adjusting their eyes to the light. Then a hand raised, and it was revealed to belong to a classmate named Pippy; _no surprise there,_ Lucas noted with a deadpan. Pippy was the class overachiever. Anything and everything she could possibly do, she did, and then some. It became very old very quickly, but her one hundred and seven percent average spoke for itself.

"Yes, Miss. I was looking over a problem in our web book, number one seventeen on page six twenty-three, to be exact. When the zeroes of a polynomial function are odd in number and..." she went on, speaking in a bunch of Algebra II gibberish that Lucas only half-understood. Apparently it was supposed to have been a question.

Before she could get an answer from Mrs. Bell, however, the bell rang. Well, it wasn't quite the sound of a bell; it was more like a shrill, elongated _DIIIIING_ that everyone looked forward to no matter how annoying it was. It dismissed them from class, after all.

Lucas heard a few "Thank Pork!"s as he tapped on the lower right of the transparent green rectangle in front of him, powering off his personal tablet. He grabbed the thin projecting platform that sat on his desk and gently tucked it inside his admittedly light school bag before hurrying out of the classroom, ignoring Mrs. Bell's reminders about the quiz at the end of the week.

The hallway was crowded and buzzing with pre-teens, some whining about hard classes or making idle chatter and some just trying to make their way to the instant transport pods. Lucas was apart of this latter group, weaving his way through a sea of silver bodies towards the end of the hall containing all of said pods. Having managed to get through without drowning, the boy threw himself inside the nearest one, the door clicking shut behind him as he began entering information into the LCD interface on his left.

Not everyone had access to these fancy machines. All businesses and companies, including stores and restaurants, had them, but Lucas was one of those kids who did have an instant transport pod in his home, which made going out and coming back very simple indeed. The boy hardly ever had to walk anywhere. Their reliance on technology was borderline insane, but it was what it was. One didn't have any need to change systems that worked.

The screen displayed his address for confirmation. When Lucas tapped the green 'transport' button, there was a sudden abnormal sensation, almost like he was being squeezed and compressed in ways that shouldn't have been possible. It didn't hurt, though; it was more of a...firm feeling than anything. Lights around him flashed, drowning his vision in a bright white for a moment before he teetered to the side a bit, having arrived safely in his home's ITP (instant transport pod; this acronym will be used from here on out). Tentatively opening the door, Lucas peered out, internally wondering for a moment if anyone other than him was home.

His question was answered immediately when he spotted a familiar woman bustling about in the kitchen, most likely working on starting dinner. She wore a metallic pink-colored outfit, a longsleeve top not unlike Lucas' except for its color and the fact that it ended in a skirt just below her knees. She wore skin-tight matching pink leggings underneath and chic black boots to go along with it. It was quite a trendy look for young(-ish) women. Her brown hair fluttered behind her as she raced about, appearing to be looking for various pots and pans.

Lucas smiled and closed the pod's door, laying a hand on his bag's strap as he approached the room none too hesitantly. "I'm back, mom."

Hinawa Itoi didn't even miss a beat, flashing her son a smile between each drawer and cupboard she checked. "Welcome back, Lucas," she greeted most genially, voice light and sweet. "How was your day?"

Lucas fell back on the automatic response, feeling it would sufficiently describe his day. "It was good." Absently the boy glanced around, seeing the same old kitchen. It was fairly old-timey compared to a lot of the fancy gadgets one could opt to get; flash ovens, magiknives, and dish robots that automatically clean things when they sense any kind of dirty tableware in the sink. His mother was a very old-timey kind of woman, outfit aside—she cooked herself, which could not be said for a lot of other families whom assigned the task to special robots instead. "What are you doing?"

The woman ceased her searching here, leaning back on one of the stainless steel countertops. "I'm scouting to see if we have everything we need to make a fancy lasagna dish," she answered, tapping her chin. "But it looks like there's a bunch of ingredients we need."

Lucas was glad he hadn't taken his monochromatic blue Converse off; he already knew where this was going. "I see."

She glanced at him. "Could I ask you to run to the store for me and pick some stuff up?"

Lucas resisted the urge to laugh. "Of course, mom."

She clasped her hands together, smiling at her son openly. "Oh, thank you, honey!" Hinawa sang, walking to the other side of the kitchen's floating island in one swift movement. "I would do it myself, but there's still some cleaning we need to get done. Elle, could you print out that recipe for Lucas, please?"

The woman had spoken to an android that stood just to the right of the island that had been quietly listening to the exchange. Its exterior was modeled after a basic young woman's body, and it wore the same outfit his mother donned, only the material was purple and she always wore a white apron over it. She appeared to have blonde hair tied into short pigtails and green eyes, but her hair was just painted metal and her eyes vividly-colored LCDs. Nevertheless, she acted like more or less a real person, minus her robotic abilities. "Yes, Mrs. Itoi," she nodded her head, walking (yes, walking. She...well, _it_ had legs as well) towards Lucas a bit formally. "One moment please, Master Lucas."

Lucas scratched the back of his neck, giving the robot a look of slight disapproval. "C'mon, Elle, you don't have to call me master," he reminded, disliking the title more than one would think. The thought of enslaving another being, alive or pseudo-alive, was appalling to him.

Elle's facial panels contorted themselves in a way that allowed her to smile. "Well, you are getting older and older every day," she noted dutifully, pushing her left arm sleeve up to her elbow-like joint. A wide, thin opening could be seen on the bottom or her forearm, and it was from this space that the paper came, the process quick and seamless. Once finished, Elle plucked the paper from her arm and handed it to her master ceremoniously. "Once you hit that age, it is only proper to refer to you as my master, since that is what you are."

Lucas flushed a bit, taking the paper with a grateful little nod. "Well, if you have to do something, just call me mister or something..." he trailed off, not meeting her green LCDs or his mother's amused chocolate orbs. He had always been fairly modest about such things. "But thanks. I guess I'll go now."

Hinawa stopped him mid-turn with a sudden revelation. "Oh, and you're going to have to walk," she informed as she began fumbling with a few pans in the cupboard below her. "Costco's ITPs are down."

This only deterred the boy for a fraction of a second. He didn't mind much, anyway; it had been well over a day since he'd stepped foot outside, and truth be told, he needed the exercise. "Alright. See you in a bit," he said as he began walking back towards their own personal ITP, but going past it to the foyer a little ways beyond.

"Be careful, dear," his mother dismissed him, and Elle muttered a small 'goodbye Mr. Lucas' before hurrying to Hinawa's side to help the woman identify cookware that would be needed for their meal.

Opening the door with only the faintest of hesitance, the boy was instantly bombarded by the unfamiliar breeze, gusts blowing through his thick blonde hair and past the clothing he wore. It was surprisingly refreshing, and he found himself walking with a weird sense of alacrity to the store that they frequented, Costco's. The warmth of the sun was much different from the stuffy heat of his classrooms; it felt nice, especially on the bare skin of his face. Nature, if it was always like this, would have been like some kind of heaven to this boy who had, like most others of his generation, spent life extremely sheltered and automated in routine.

But there was next to nothing natural about Tazmily...at least, not anymore. Towering buildings near him, in the downtown area, the cluster of all the homes and establishments in their side of town and all the metal and cement and tar that came along with it. The grass was all vividly green and perpendicular to the ground and just _too damn perfect_ to be real, which of course most of it wasn't. And then there were buildings that floated in the sky with the help of extremely advanced and powerful technologies provided by the scientists working directly for the Pig Nation, as well as all the traffic consisting of hovercars that also transcended gravity, scaring most birds away and leaving the city noisy all the time. There was an occasional tree or patch of flowers, but for the most part, Tazmily was void of all things organic, focusing entirely on things futuristic (modern, as it were) and abiotic.

It wasn't a very long trip, all the distractions aside. Costco's was a mere couple of blocks from their home; why they even needed to use the ITP to get there was beyond Lucas, but the boy made a habit of utilizing the machine anyway. It saved a lot of time, even if he wasn't in dire need of it. The store was not very large length and width-wise, but it was two stories tall. A hovercar parking lot was situated on top, something which Lucas had only seen fleetingly as his parents didn't own a flying vehicle. The glass doors automatically opened when he approached them, and he took calm strides as he entered.

From the inside, the store looked pretty big. The bottom floor was littered with all sorts of food items, from fresh fruits and vegetables to canned goods to dehydrated foods to the little disks that the special cook robots used to make meals from nothing except said disk. Then the second floor contained all the other things, like basic clothes and supplies to keep one's personal hygiene in order or standard furniture, office supplies and electronics. People and robots alike walked and drove respectively down the aisles, grabbing various items on display and stuffing them into baskets, and check-outs lay just inside the entrances. The concept hadn't really changed much in the three hundred years it had been around.

Normally Lucas was all for wandering around the place himself and gathering the groceries by hand; he was rather curious by nature and the opportunity to see all the different foods and products in person instead of on a holographic projection of television programming was something he enjoyed. But today he just wasn't quite feeling it (it may have had something to do with the subconscious desire to get home quickly, what with his rumbling stomach), so he decided to take the easy way out.

He took a left upon entry, to where the shopping carts were located. Next to them stood quite a few robots, like emotionless metallic soldiers ready to lay their life on the line for anyone who happened to need their assistance...or something. Walking up to the frontmost hunk of metal, he pressed a little button on its side. The robot came to life, mechanical parts whirring and moving inside and out as it started itself up. Within fifteen seconds the machine gazed at him with what would have been benevolent blue LCDs, if lights could convey any kind of emotion. "Greetings, valued patron," it played it's prerecorded audio quite formally. "How may I be of assistance?"

Lucas smiled at the thing politely despite its inability to register his kindness. "Grocery pickup," he said, the command one of the few the robot could interpret.

It took the list from Lucas' outstretched hand and began to scan it. Once finished, it adjusted its head to face him once more. "Request start," it said, before speeding off in the direction of the first listed item with a shopping cart.

The blonde wasn't left waiting for very long, maybe ten minutes at the most. The robot came back with a cart only about half full, containing everything that had been on the list. It spoke once more. "Grocery pickup request completed, triple check initiating...thirteen items total, two on special discount. Total comes to three hundred seventy DP. Account number?"

Lucas had long since memorized the nine digit number. "Four two four two five six four eight one three."

"Itoi account, Flint primary. Account password?"

For this, the robot opened up a compartment on its right arm, revealing a screen with numbers and letters scattered on it. Lucas quickly typed their password into the system.

"Authorizing, one moment please..." the metallic voice trailed off before detaching itself from the basket, moving back a bit. "Transaction complete."

Lucas took the cart into his own hands. "Thank you."

"Thank you for choosing Costco's. Have a good day."

The machine quickly returned to its original spot as Lucas pushed the cart back to the long line of them to the left. Since his items had been pre-bagged, all he had to do was take the three bags out, push the cart back into the line, and exit the store unceremoniously.

Silvery material brushed against itself as Lucas walked, back the way he'd come earlier. The boy really was enjoying the fine day. So much so that he decided he would take a longer route than normal to his home, just to spend the extra few minutes outside. As such, he turned down the first alleyway he encountered, knowing it would deposit him on the other side of the block his house was situated on.

The alleyway wasn't pitch black or anything, but it was quite a bit darker than the main roads. So the fleeting shine he saw in his peripheral vision caught his attention easily. Upon further inspection, it was revealed to be someone, standing off to the side of the path between buildings. This person wasn't any taller than he himself was, and they wore strange clothes for this day and age. A fur-lined black jacket clothed their torso and bright orange cargo pants looked a bit baggy on their legs. These pants were tucked into black boots, and the person's left hand boasted a dark leather glove. Their right forearm wasn't even a forearm; it was a cannon-looking thing, metallic and shiny just like a robot's chassis. The helmet the person donned covered most of their face, but Lucas could see one ever so slightly startled green eye locked on him as the person stood rigid, not daring to move for whatever reason.

Lucas, however, did not read this far into the person's demeanor. Instead, he very nearly fanboy'd, grocery bags swinging haphazardly from his sides as he gasped in awe. "_Woah_!" he exclaimed, dashing forward a bit to get a better look at their outfit. "That's an _awesome_ Masked Man cosplay!" The Masked Man was one of the major villains of the Nowhere Island's Savior's legend, and probably the hardest trial he'd had to overcome. That final battle between the two had always torn at his heart strings.

The only reason they knew what anyone from that time looked like was because of the Princess Kumatora Osohe's paintings chronicling the events; she had gone on the adventure with the Savior himself, along with a man named Duster and the Savior's dog, Boney. But that's getting a bit off-track.

Lucas, still oblivious to the mystery cosplayer's weariness, couldn't help himself. "Did you make it yourself? That cannon arm of yours looks _sweet_!"

The person stayed silent.

Lucas raised an eyebrow at them, trying to come up with a reason for their lack of an answer, when he realized his own shortcoming. "Oh, I'm sorry! I haven't introduced myself. That was rude of me. My name's—"

"Lucas." The person spoke, eyes somber and almost...incredulous? Sad? Both? It had been more of a statement than a question, and their voice was similar to Lucas', though it was deeper. Decidedly male.

Lucas blinked, more than a little taken aback. "...how...how did you know my name?" the blonde asked, suddenly not so quick to get close to the guy.

The cosplayer ignored him, having begun to walk towards him, any hesitance he'd had having vanished from his person. "Lucas," he breathed, sounding unbelievably relieved, like the world had been lifted off his shoulders. Before said boy could even open his mouth again to question, the 'Masked Man' threw both his arms around Lucas' neck and pulled him into _way_ too intimate a hug for a random person met in an alleyway.

Lucas quite literally jumped back, tearing himself away from the other guy's hold and almost dropping the bags he carried on the ground. "_Hnnah_!" he cried, heart leaping in his chest. Just what in the world was this guy's deal? "Wh-what are you _doing_?"

The other just looked confused, bewildering Lucas even more. "...you don't remember me," he said, again stating it as a fact even though Lucas was seventy percent sure he hadn't the slightest clue.

"Well, I can barely see your face, y'know," Lucas reasoned, still almost certain that he didn't know this person at all. "How am I supposed to recognize you with a helmet on?"

The other boy paused, mulling this notion over. It apparently made sense enough to him, because sure enough, he raised a hand (his only good one) to his helmet and slowly took it off. He shook out his red hair, the thick strands framing his face evenly even though he had helmet hair. Another rather surprising thing was his other eye; it was a blood red instead of the other's green hue.

These things didn't immediately stand out to Lucas, though. The blonde just stared at him for a moment, mouth hanging slightly agape and head cocked a bit to the side. "You..." he began, eyes locked on the other's face, "...look almost just like me..."

The boy's face held very little emotion, save for the disappointment in his eyes. "You really forgot," he observed, voice monotone. "Lucas, it's me. Your brother, Claus."

Something clicked in Lucas' mind. He frowned. "Now wait just a minute," he said, tone becoming irritated. "Don't tell me you're one of the guys from school here to make fun of me!"

If he knew what Lucas was going on about, the boy—'_Claus_', Lucas thought with distaste—did not show it. Half-lidded eyes never left the blonde's gaze. "Why would I lie to or make fun of you?"

Lucas faltered. "...well, you're..."

'Claus' took a step forward. "I am your brother, Lucas. I'm not dead; I survived, and I'm here now."

Lucas could hardly bring himself to argue with him. He sounded so sincere that the blonde almost believed him. Almost. "...but I don't have any siblings," Lucas finally responded, playing along despite himself. "You must be mistaking me for someone else."

'Claus' refused to listen. "But you must know me! I've been hoping to see you again for so long. I was stuck in that cavern, with no one but Mas—_Porky's_ capsule to keep me company."

Lucas couldn't believe his ears. This guy certainly seemed to have the finer parts of the legend memorized well enough, and he sounded like he really had been there, but that was impossible.

...right?

Lucas shook his head. Of course it was. Either he was seriously insane or he really was just a stupid classmate of his getting way too into his character. Nevertheless, the blonde decided he would play along. "So you're the _real_ Masked Man then?"

'Claus' nodded solemnly. "And your brother. Yes."

Lucas' eyes narrowed a fraction. "Prove it."

'Claus' didn't hesitate; it was almost as if he'd been expecting that kind of a challenge. Raising his arm cannon to the sky, he waited for Lucas' eyes to stray up there as well to fire it. There was a very muffled _BMPHH_ sound as he shot a ball of what looked to be a bright congregation of pastel-colored light into the air. It sparkled and shined, and though it looked like nothing more than a firework, one got the feeling that it was more dangerous than it seemed. Said ball flew up higher and higher and steadily got smaller until it dissipated, leaving no trace of its existence behind.

Lucas kept staring in shock at the spot in the sky where it had disappeared, mouth wide open and unwilling to meet 'Claus's I-told-you-so look. Though no one had ever seen it before, not for hundreds of years, Lucas knew exactly what it was; _PSI_. Scientists had been trying to duplicate it since it had been discovered, but hadn't succeeded yet. It was a supernatural power one was born with, but no one had been blessed with it since the Savior's generation.

Slowly Lucas met the redhead's gaze, the gravity of the situation beginning to sink in.

Could this _really_ be the three hundred-year-old brother of the man he was named after?

—**e—n—d—c—h—a—p—t—e—r—**

_**A/N: Will be expanded upon at a later time. I honestly don't know what to say. This fic is loosely inspired by the song of the same name, by School Food Punishment. Other than that, this is completely random. But it's pretty much a sequel to Mother 3, so...woo hoo?**_

Don't expect an update anytime soon. Damn me and my inability to finish projects before starting new ones.

But anyway, I'd appreciate feedback! Leave a review telling me whatcha like, didn't like, things I can improve on, etc. etc. It means a lot~

Thanks for reading. C:


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